Angelo
by Insignificance
Summary: Everyone know that Tseng is the head of the Turks and the personal bodyguard to Rufus Shinra. But no one knows the real reason as to why Rufus needed a bodyguard in the first place... Was it to protect Rufus, or was it to protect Shinra from Rufus?


They told me that I was becoming the personal bodyguard of the President's only son. They told me that it was a privilege to be promoted this way. They said I should be grateful to the President for giving me such an honor. I'm not sure if I've ever believed Them.  
  
The first moment I set my eyes on Rufus Shinra, I knew he was more than just a spoiled fifteen-year-old boy. When I stepped into his suite to make my introductions, he was sitting behind his desk; hair immaculately groomed and calm like that peaceful silence only before the most ferocious storm. His hands, covered in a layer of soft leather gloves, where folded before him on top of the expensive redwood desk. His eyes, an eerie mix of blue and green, were fixed on me, seeming to pierce into my soul.  
  
This was the young son of the President, the future heir to the Shinra Empire. But it wasn't a boy sitting before me; it was a full-grown man.   
  
They told me that it was a privilege to be the personal bodyguard of Rufus Shinra. They also told me that if necessary, I was permitted to use extreme forms of restriction to prevent any unnecessary injuries. I didn't know what They meant at the time. They gave me a key and permitted me to lock him in his suit every night. I thought They were referring to the threat of any enemies that could be targeting the young heir.   
  
Oh, but how wrong I was. I may have been the head Turk, but I never thought that my judgement might've been so wrong.   
  
As the vice-president's bodyguard, I was the first one to arrive at his quarters in the morning and the last one to leave at night. I didn't mind that. The first few months went by smoothly. He did not give me any trouble and the precautions that They taught me had been unpracticed. I never locked his doors, although They warned me to do so. But good things never stay that way.  
  
Once every month the vice-president was required to come down to the labs. They told me it was to make regular checks on his health. It was the only time where I was not allowed to follow the young boy to protect him. I was forced to wait in one of the padded waiting rooms. They assured me that the checks were necessary and that if I believed it to be a danger to his health, I can prevent him from coming any time. They also told me to never cross their head, the professor Hojo, and that I was to follow all his instructions.   
  
It was a jumbled mess of contradicting orders. I had ceased to listen to them a long time ago.   
  
It was four months later that I finally met Hojo. I did not intentionally seek him out. While waiting in the white room for Them to be finished with my ward, the scientist had walked in. He was a gaunt man, greasy black hair tied messily back, and white lab coat immaculately clean. He stood in front of where I sat stoically with my arms crossed. The silence was broken by a nasty laugh from him, along with these words, 'So you're his new bodyguard. I would take care and lock his door. It would be a tragedy if anyone were to meet their end abruptly.' And then, he was gone.   
  
I did not understand his warning, but I did not discard it either. It was not in my nature to discard something like this. It sounded like a threat. I never took too nicely to threats.   
  
Hours later, as I arrived at my own room, a package was waiting for me on my bed. It was unsigned, wrapped in unremarkable brown paper. It did not contain a possibility of harm to myself physically. Inside was a videotape, unmarked just like the paper it was wrapped in. It didn't prepare me for the horror contained in it.   
  
Even now I do not wish to think on those images again. I was the head of the Turks; I had my share of bloodshed and deaths. But those images, those scenes played out on that videotape, those horrible screams of agony will never leave me.   
  
The President told the citizens that the death of his wife was caused by accident. Everyone knew that she had problems with insomnia, so the people accepted it when they were told that she died of sleep pill overdose, and that it was accidental, not an act of suicide. But the tape was the truth, and the truth was horrifying. I had a nightmare that night of a dark beast wearing a human form tearing me apart while I watched on.   
  
But even then, with the video, I did not truly believe that it happened. The next morning I dressed and arrived at the door of my charge at the usual time. Everything went by like normal, as if I hadn't witnessed live a horrible death. It was the last moment of the day, when I was just ready to leave, when things changed.   
  
The young vice-president of Shinra told me to wait. And I did. His back was to me as he started to speak, but as soon as he began, I was glad that his back was turned. He asked me if I had seen the video. 'Don't get me wrong,' he had said, arms clasped loosely behind him as he continued to stare through the window to the sight of the city of Midgar. 'I was not the one who sent that video to you. It was Hojo.'  
  
I did not answer. I could not. How do you confirm that you have seen something so gruesome, done with his bare hands by the very same person who is asking you? No, there was no way to do it, except by silence. And so I stayed silent.   
  
'I do not expect you to understand,' he began again. 'Her death was not deliberate on my part. I...could not control myself.' His hands contracted sharply, digging leather-covered fingertips into the leather-covered palm. His voice broke for a single second as he came to the end of that last sentence. 'I would like it if you do not drag this matter into our daytime business. Your performance insofar was excellent and my father would not like to have to find someone else to be my bodyguard when I already have a competent one at hand.'   
  
Outwardly, I was as professional as usual, but inside I felt like vomiting. The only thing I could say was a brisk 'Yes sir.'   
  
He waved a hand at me in an act of dismissal. I retreated as he ordered me. The door behind me closed with a dull thud and faintly, I heard behind that thick wood soft sobbing, as if someone was trying to muffle it. I turned around slowly to face the polished surface.  
  
The click of the lock was surprisingly loud in the sudden silence. 


End file.
